Creamy Mushroom Soup
The wind is still whipping through the trees here in East Hampton, and here, for you, is Soup #2 in my Winter Soup bundle.
A pot of soul-satisfying, creamy goodness to ride out what’s remaining of the bitterly cold temperatures of winter, preferably sipped from a large mug.
Do I wash mushrooms?
In 1988, I was accepted for a several-month “staging” (STAH-zhing) in a two-star Michelin restaurant in Versaille, France, Les Trois Marche, helmed by Chef Gérard Vié. I had been working at The Gotham Bar and Grill in New York City, as a professional cook for 3 ½ years and was in about the sixth year of my career. All this to say: I had skills.
Securing this position and moving to France for a few months was a pretty big deal for me, and I was excited and nervous, having no idea what to expect.
I spoke very little French (well, about 40 words) and accepted the kind offer of staying with my sister’s boyfriend’s parents in a tiny suburb of Paris, a short train ride to Versailles. (Laurent, the boyfriend, had actually arranged the position for me.) I arrived at my new temporary home to discover they operated a gorgeous patisserie, Laurant’s dad being the pastry chef, and his mom the proprietor. Their home kitchen was directly behind the storefront, and the apartment bedrooms were above it.
The prep kitchen for their shop was a master's workshop, with well-used wooden counters and prep areas, bins of flour and ingredients. It was so beautifully orderly with French pastry tools lining the walls and neatly stacked on shelves.
My Nirvana! Part of me was so happy. This was an added bonus to this whole adventure.
I also discovered his parents spoke no English, not one word! I was completely out of my comfort zone!
The smell of chocolate croissants woke me each morning and lured me to their breakfast table, where I drank coffee from a small bowl and gobbled down a different pastry every day, gathering the confidence to stumble through this foreign experience.
Entering Les Trois Marche was an entirely different experience than being in any of the restaurant kitchens I had worked in. It was very fine dining, hushed, reverent, and serious.
The “brigade de cuisine” were all male. The only other woman was the pastry chef who worked in a separate kitchen; I rarely even saw her. A mostly male crew wasn’t unusual for me, as most kitchens I had been trained in were that, but this was the first time I was the only female in the crew.
And it was a completely French-speaking kitchen.
Yes, getting around to answering the “washing mushrooms” question:
On one of my first days, I was handed several huge boxes of mushrooms by a 14-year-old boy (they begin young in the kitchens in France). With glee in his command to me, he told me to wash them. I did understand what he said, but I didn’t believe it, leaning into my training that mushrooms don’t meet water.
I just stood there, (admittedly partly aghast that I was being spoken to this way by a pipsqueak kid). My standing frozen in place increasingly irritated him until, at the top of his lungs, he barked, “Lavez les champignons!” He simultaneously grabbed them from my arms, threw them into the stainless prep sink, and turned on the water tap.
I have washed mushrooms ever since.
Creamy Mushroom Soup
Using butter and heavy cream adds richness, smoothness, and a beautiful color to this soup. I enjoy adding a touch of fresh thyme and, additionally, sautéed diced mushrooms as a garnish. While I typically use cultivated mushrooms, wild mushrooms would be wonderful also. Refer to the notes at the end of the recipe for more ideas.
